


In Brief

by a_windsor



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Mini fics, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/pseuds/a_windsor
Summary: Collection of prompt fills and mini fics from Tumblr. Jumps over time and setting. Just thought I'd collect them here.





	1. Chapter 1

_**things you said that i wish you hadn’t  
** _

 

_“I was with you because I loved you.”_

It’s a sentence that has haunted Nyssa for months. Bittersweet in its entirety, it had made everything so much more real: it wasn’t Sara being impetuous and drastic, as she was prone to be. It wasn’t Sara acting out or needing space. Sara left _her_. Maybe it was the League she was fleeing truly, but it had hardened her heart to Nyssa in the process.

Or so Nyssa had thought.

Until Sara showed up again at her door. Bedraggled, again. Beautiful, again. Begging forgiveness, and Nyssa is so powerless to say no to her. So completely powerless.

Forgiveness is given, readily. Longing and lust is poured into each other, sheets tangled, bodies pressed together, relieving the ache, and as Sara drifts to sleep in her arms, she switches tense.

_“I love you.”_

Forgiveness is easy: it was always Sara’s to have. But the present tense does not erase the past.

Sara _loved_ her. Sara _loves_ her now, and Nyssa believes that. But, however briefly, Sara _was_ with her, Sara _did_ love her.

Nyssa wishes she could forget anything about that sentence: the quiver in Sara’s voice when she said it, the slicing words themselves, the look in familiar eyes, suddenly estranged.

Losing Sara, however briefly, had undone her. And even here, Sara once again in her arms, once again pledging herself to her, and secondarily, the League, Nyssa cannot forget one word: _loved.  
_

She’d always known Sara was her weakness. She should harden her own heart now, send Sara back to Starling and out of her life. But she will not. Not ever. Everything’s changed and yet nothing’s changed: 

She is Sara’s forever, and Sara is hers as long as Sara wants it so.

***

fin


	2. Chapter 2

_ things you said when you thought i was asleep (League era, 1.0) _

Sara is deluding herself is she thinks Nyssa, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, Heir to the Demon, is still asleep.

And yet, Nyssa allows her to continue to think that. Doing otherwise would force her to acknowledge the gut wrenching reality that is slowing sinking in. If she is asleep, this may be a dream. If she wakes, she will be forced to make a decision she cannot make:

Kill the woman she loves, or betray the only life she has ever known.

So she lays there, frozen, sick to her stomach, as Sara whispers:

“I’m sorry. I can’t stay. Not even for you.”

***

fin


	3. Chapter 3

_things you said under the stars and in the grass [League era, 2.0]_

“How can you still love me?”

The words catch Nyssa off guard. She cannot tear her eyes from the stars above. The grass below her back tickles her skin. Sara’s arm remains resolutely around her waist, but her words are tentative.

Her Beloved is not _tentative_.

Sara doesn’t answer, but does pull Nyssa closer.

“I have come to discover that love defies all explanation and all attempts at explanation. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. Perhaps I do not say it enough, but it is true.” Nyssa pauses. “And it is _my_ actions that put that into jeopardy. I who threatened that which you hold most dear.”

“To save me,” Sara says softly. The cool Alpine night and the warm bottle of wine have made her more open than usual: less swagger, more vulnerability. The wine even makes her a little wistful when she turns Nyssa’s words on her: “That which _you_ hold most dear.”

“Always,” Nyssa answers honestly.

They sit in silence so profound Nyssa can hear their heartbeats.

“They’re not,” Sara finally whispers. “or not alone. You mean as much to me as my family does.”

The events of the past several months make it difficult to clearly determine the trust of that statement. The evidence is mixed. On the one hand, Sara left in the night. On the other, she is here now, by choice. She had made their love past tense, and yet not it is present and oft-repeated.

The truth for Nyssa is, her weakness is, that it doesn’t matter if Sara is telling the truth. She will take Sara’s love no matter what shape it takes, and she will have her at her side as long as she’ll stay. She will love her with every breath, beyond explanation, forever.

“You don’t believe me,” Sara says, barely audible.

“Today, I do, habibti. Today, I do.”

***

fin


	4. Chapter 4

_ things you didn’t say at all [League era, 1.0]  
_

Sara never speaks of the Amazo, unless it is an accident.

She has, once or twice, let something slip. Like when a League-commandeered freighter has a troublesome sputter in its engine and Sara knows how to fix it, or her knowledge of field medicine surpasses basic League training. Someone will ask _how_ , and Sara will demur with a casual “I spent a lot of time on a ship.”

Nyssa knows the most about the Amazo, and most of that she got from those first days, Sara in and out of consciousness, not strong enough for emotional walls and verbal filters. She does not ask more, because those were secrets she was privy to only by circumstance.

It isn’t too strange, on its face. Their pre-League lives (those of them who had them) were “erased” when the oaths were made, and they are not to speak of them.

But Nyssa knows much she is not _supposed_ to know about Sara. Her birthday. Her favorite childhood memories. Her _worst_ childhood memories. Every pet she ever owned. Her mother’s favorite flowers. Even some of what happened on Lian Yu.

The Amazo, however, remains off-limits. And accordingly, Nyssa tries not to think of it too often. If Sara can not speak of it in the safety of their quarters, then the darkness must be deep. To linger on it is to imagine, and Nyssa’s imagination quickly takes her to a place of rage. Those who inflicted the unknown horrors are long dead, unavailable to slake her rage on, and it is better not to go there.

It is hard, however, to ignore. Hard _not_ to imagine, when one of the nightmares takes hold of her Beloved.

“Sara,” Nyssa speaks her given name into the privacy of their bedchamber. “Sara, you are safe.”

Nyssa wraps her in her arms, pulls her as close as possible.

“Come back to me.”

Sara does not wake, but the tension drains from her. She nuzzles Nyssa’s shoulder gently and murmurs Nyssa’s name. Nyssa’s heart constricts, and she presses a kiss to Sara’s temple.

“If they were not already dead, I would bleed them all dry for you,” Nyssa swears. Sara hums a little against her shoulder.

Nyssa must accept, however that when it comes to the Amazo, midnight comfort is all she can offer her Beloved.

 

***

fin


	5. Chapter 5

_ things you said when you thought i was asleep _

“Taer al-Asfer,” she whispers into the night. 

Sara starts to answer, but Nyssa keeps going, obviously not thinking Sara is actually awake to hear her.

“A situation has developed, one which I did not anticipate.”

Sara keeps her eyes shut, tries to keep her breathing level. Nyssa is going to tell her something, and she thinks she knows what it is. She’s always dreaded what comes next, in previous “relationships”, the needs and feelings and expectations.

But whatever she and Nyssa are doing, it feels different from the playacting of her teenage years. It goes beyond hormones and lust (although there is plenty of that, for sure). It’s laughter and deep conversation, the spilling of closely guarded secrets in the intimacy of the sacred space of Nyssa’s quarters. Whatever Nyssa is about to voice, Sara is sure she feels it, too. Sure she’d die to protect it. 

“I have fallen in love with you, Sara.”

The use of her old name does surprise her, but Nyssa is always full of wonderful surprises. 

Unable to keep up the charade, Sara flips over, finds Nyssa’s dark eyes in the moonlight and says:

“Me, too.”

There’s a flash of surprise, and a little annoyance, ‘cause Nyssa’s yellow bird is a _brat_ , but one of those secrets they’ve spilled is that Nyssa really likes it that way. 

“You, too?” Nyssa arches an eyebrow. 

“ _I love you, too_ ,” Sara says, and it’s as natural as breathing, because somehow, in this temple of death, with its rules and rigidity, Sara has never felt more free than she feels at Nyssa’s side. 

“You were supposed to be asleep.”

“Oh, too chicken to tell me when I’m awake, huh?” Sara teases, unable to stop grinning.

Nyssa eyes narrow, and she lashes out, lightning quick, pinning Sara under her.

“I am not ‘chicken’.”

“Prove it. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“ _I love you_.”

“Yeah,” Sara says, lifting her head up to kiss her. “I love you, too.”

***

fin


	6. Chapter 6

_ things you said at the kitchen table _

“Sara, they are scrambled eggs. _How on earth are they this terrible?”  
_

 _“_ Hey!” Sara pouts.

“I am sorry, habibti, but they’re inedible,” Nyssa says, pushing away the plate with a pained look. If Sara didn’t know how much it took for Nyssa to say that, she’d be more offended. 

“I tried,” Sara promises. 

“I know,” Nyssa pulls Sara out of her chair and onto her lap. “It’s simply not a gift you were granted.”

“I wanted to make you breakfast, but we don’t have any flour.”

“Hence the lack of pancakes,” Nyssa chuckles. She kisses behind Sara’s ear, and Sara shivers. “You don’t need to cook for me.”

“But I wanted to.”

“Who hired you to kill me?”

Sara smacks her shoulder hard, and Nyssa is laughing, beautifully, joyfully laughing. It’s a rare moment, and Sara savors it. Nyssa nuzzles against Sara’s neck, slowly, languidly. Sara nearly comes out of her skin, grabbing at Nyssa’s shoulder.

“We’ll go out for breakfast. After we burn that lest it fall into the wrong hands.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

“Mean? Is that what this is?” Nyssa asks, lips brushing Sara’s skin as Sara squirms.

“It is if you don’t take me back to bed right now.”

“I thought it was time for breakfast?”

“Brunch,” Sara says breathily. “Brunch is fine.”

***

fin


	7. Chapter 7

**Overprotective Sara  
**

Set in their middle League years.

——-

“Yeah, you can step the fuck off.”

Her voice is low, violent, a little bit scary. Even for Nyssa, who is not easily frightened. 

“Habibti.”

Sara is not called off by Nyssa’s intervention.

“She is the Heir to the Demon, and you’ll show her respect.”

Sara has a fistful of the new recruit’s tunic. The young man sputters, shame-faced and terrified, his casual slurs quickly dissipating from the air around them.

“You may put him down, Taer al Asfer. He was unaware of the crimes he was committing.”

“Doesn’t mean he shouldn’t pay the price,” Sara growls. “He needs to learn how it works.”

The recruit looks ready to wet himself; Nyssa is fairly convinced he has learned. 

Still, how is she to take any Sara’s fun?

“Nothing permanent, then.”

Sara releases the shirt, grabs the man’s arm, and twists it back. She forces him to his knees.

“Apologize.”

The man stammers through a grating apology, and Sara seems satisfied, releasing him. He runs away. Fast. 

“You ok?” Sara asks once they are alone in the hall, all of a sudden gentle again. 

“You did not need to do that,” Nyssa says, even as she brazenly invades Sara’s space. 

“Yes, I did.”

“You do not have to protect me from his ignorant views.”

“Yes, I do,” Sara says firmly, responding by moving even closer.

“But-“

“Stop whining,” Sara grins, all groping hands and soft lips, “Just be a damsel.”

Nyssa rolls her eyes, even as she crashes into her beloved.

***

fin


	8. Chapter 8

**"He only winked at me. That really doesn't warrant murder."**

Set in Season 2.5

***

“I’ll kill him,” Nyssa snarls.

“Whoa, hey, he only winked at me. That doesn’t really warrant murder,” Sara grabs Nyssa’s arm, hauling her back before she can unleash her wrath on the innocent(ish) passerby. As much as she might wish differently, light misogyny isn’t a capital offense. “What’s gotten into you?”

Nyssa makes that face that says her question will not be dignified with a response.

“That’s the third time today,” Sara presses, because she is not afraid of that face. “You’ve never been the possessive type before.”

“That was _before_ ,” Nyssa lets slip, and Sara’s glad she kept a firm grip on Nyssa’s arm because now she uses it to tug her into a nearby alleyway. Nyssa pulls her arm away, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am _not_ doing this now, Sara.”

“Yeah, and I’m not telling your dad you killed a civilian in broad daylight because you were feeling insecure. I’m not exactly his favorite person right now.”

Nyssa sets her jaw, and Sara regrets the sarcasm.

She regrets so much.

She tries to meet Nyssa’s eyes, but they are firmly locked somewhere over Sara’s shoulder.

“I’m not going to leave you because some guy winks at me on the street, Nyssa.”

“ _Again_ ,” Nyssa spits. “You will not leave me, again.”

“Nyssa…” Sara sighs. “That had nothing to do with - “

“A guy? I met him.”

“I didn’t leave because of Ollie. I left - “

“I know very well why you left,” Nyssa says, clipped, so hurt.

“Oliver was a part of my past. One of the things I had to work through. And I did, and I came back. _For you_.”

“You came back to save your beloved Starling City.”

The use of the word stings Sara.

“I came back because I belong here.” She tugs on the front of Nyssa’s shirt, then pokes her, _hard_ , in the sternum. “ _Here_. With you. And I’m here for good. With _you_.”

Nyssa finally meets her eyes, admitting quietly.

“I still struggle to believe that, Sara.”

“I get that,” Sara says, pained. “I’ve got a lot to prove. To everyone. But _that guy_?”

Nyssa quirks a bit of a smile, and Sara beams back at her.

“Having met Oliver Queen, I now find your taste rather suspect.”

“Ouch,” Sara says, but she sighs in relief, because her Nyssa has emerged from her walls.

“Care to argue to the point?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sara shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nyssa even gives her a little smile, and Sara pushes up to kiss her, never mind the public location.

“Can we make it back to the safe house without any unexpected casualties?”

“Fine,” Nyssa says, uncrossing her arms.

“Good,” Sara smiles. “Then let’s hurry so I can get to work on some of that proving.”

***

fin


	9. Chapter 9

**Fake dating au where they go undercover as a couple and Sara is really flirty and forward and nyssa is super flustered?**

(Not an AU - just a pre-relationship, early League times)

***

This was a _terrible_ idea.

As if the dreams, the traitorous dreams, weren’t bad enough, leaving her aching and wanting ashamed, now she believes someone is playing a sick joke. Someone who knows her secret desires.

Their cover is simple - a diplomat’s daughter and her paramour.

It’s just that Sara, whose acting skills are still being sharpened, has suddenly become _very_ good at selling their roles.

Sara’s hand slips a little higher up Nyssa’s thigh, and the cool, composed Heir to the Demon chokes on her drink. Nyssa knows that she shows her trainee too much favor, too much latitude, but the delight on Sara’s face is downright mutinous. The thought of making her pay for it later, however, does not _help_ matters.

Nyssa makes the flush leave her cheeks and hisses:

“This is a _state dinner_.”

“And we’re young, stupid, and in love,” Sara whispers back.

That is _disturbingly_ close to what Nyssa actually feels but she forces herself to calmly, casually cut a piece from her chicken and take a bite. She chews slowly, staring down her wayward apprentice, whose eyes suddenly darken in a way that stirs low in Nyssa’s belly.

Sara quickly removes her hand from Nyssa’s thigh, finding her own knife and fork. She makes a face and says:

“This chicken might do the job before we have the chance to.”

Nyssa breathes a quiet sigh of relief, but finds her though aches for the touch of Sara’s hand again, and her body remains hyper-focused on every move Sara makes.

“Yes, well,” she clears her throat. “That _would_ be convenient.”

It would. It would end this torture quickly, leave only the awkwardness of bunking down in a tiny League warehouse together.

Sara laughs. the way a lover would, because that is the role she is playing.

Nyssa knows she’ll hear that laugh again, in yet another traitorous dream.

***

fin


	10. Chapter 10

**Stop! Wait right there or are you fucking kidding me?!**

  
“Stop! Wait right there.”

Nyssa freezes, wiping at traitorous tears. Just minutes ago, Sara, beautiful, mostly whole, wonderfully alive, Sara, had met her on a rooftop in Star City and said her “goodbye for the foreseeable future”s. Considering Sara now deals more in futures and in pasts than she does in the present, Nyssa couldn’t help but feel a finality in it. Sara had held her close and talked about her mission and her purpose and her healing. Had kissed her cheek and walked away towards a space ship. Time ship. Whatever.   
  
Nyssa had respected the goodbye, grateful perhaps that at least they finally had one.

But that didn’t mean that it hadn’t felt like standing in Oliver Queen’s basement all over again, realizing Sara was gone forever.

“Please wait,” Sara repeats, dropping onto the roof again from the ship’s open gangplank, hovering right above.

Nyssa hasn’t moved and doesn’t plan to, but she is incredibly confused.

Sara reaches her at a run, crashing into her, first with her lips and then with her hips. Nyssa staggers under the force and the surprise, but she steadies herself, arms around Sara, pulling her close as years slip away from them, grief and anger and devastation melting away to the eternal peace of kissing Sara Lance.

“I tried to be noble,” Sara says, breathless, forehead pressed to Nyssa’s. “Screw noble. Come with me.”

“Sara, I-“

“Please. I can’t leave them, not yet. Not ’til we’re done. But I can’t leave you again, Nyssa. And how can I find out who I am without the most important part of me? There is something more than the killing, and I know you feel that, too. You disbanded the League for a reason. Come with me, help us take down Savage, and then we can start again, wherever and whenever we want. A clean slate. _Please_.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to answer,” Nyssa smiles through tears. “I’d have said yes without the speech.”

Sara beams at her and, before kissing her again, says: “I’m trying the hero thing. I hear speeches are part of it.”

They kiss for what feels like an eternity, a wonderful, blessed eternity. Sara tears aways when a goggled man yells from the hovering ship:

“Alright, you made the gesture and got the girl! Let’s go, Lance! We got a timeline to preserve.”

Sara gives Nyssa one more grin and then takes her hand, leading her towards the ship she had called the _Waverider_.

“You’re going to hate all of them, but try extra hard not to kill Ray, okay?”

“If you insist, habibti.”

An annoyed man with a British accent greets them several steps into the metallic halls.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Don’t worry, Rip,” Sara pats his cheek with her free hand, still pulling Nyssa along behind her. “She won’t need her own bunk.”

***

fin


	11. Chapter 11

_things you said too quietly_

  
“I wonder if my parents are okay.”

“I hope Laurel wasn’t in the Glades.”

“I didn’t sleep last night worrying about them.”

“He deserved to die, but his kids didn’t deserve to see it.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Nyssa.”

“I don’t know _if_ I can do this, Nyssa.”

“How can I have you and keep my soul?”

“How can I want you so much and still want to be so far from here?”

 

Maybe if Sara had the courage to speak any of those words above a half-whisper in the dark while Nyssa slept soundly, she wouldn’t have slipped from her arms in the dead of night and fracture everything that had made them whole.

***

fin


	12. Chapter 12

**things you didn't say at all  
**

______

Before, they didn’t say it at all. They showed it, implied it, lived it, but say it? 

The first time Sara said “I love you”, it was in the past tense. 

Since she came back, admitted mistakes, begged for forgiveness and the salvation of her city, forgave Nyssa the sins of her desperation, things have been simultaneously exactly the same and completely different.

For the most part the same, of course, as if the intervening months had never occurred. As if Sara hadn’t lived a completely separate life, hadn’t shared someone else’s bed…. Nyssa can frequently forget those months ever happened. 

But one, very important thing is so utterly different.

_“I’m training with Sar’ab this morning,” Sara says with a kiss to her cheek after snagging a piece of fruit for breakfast. “Gonna kick his ass. Love you.”_

_“_ I love you _,” Sara grins once she’s stopped laughing delightedly at some comment Nyssa’s murmured under her breath._

_“Mm, where are you going?” Sara grumbles sleepily as Nyssa slips from their bed.  
_

_“A meeting with my father.”_

_“Mmkay. Love you.”_

She says it as easily as breathing. Present tense. Like a need to atone for that one heartbreaking past tense. Or like once she finally learned to say it, she can’t keep it in any longer. 

So Nyssa learns to say it back, words that have never before passed her lips now finding their way out of her in every language she knows.

_“I love you, habibti, be safe,” as Sara heads out on the hunt.  
_

_“I do love you,” as the laugh continues to wrinkle Sara’s nose, at once so sweet and so lethal._

_“Sleep well, Sara, I love you,” as Sara presses against her side, breath leveling out._

They say it too much, as if they’re making up for lost time, but it surprises Nyssa how much she needed it. How much light it brings to her heart. How much it took losing each other to realize how much they needed each other. How good it feels when Sara grabs her and pulls her close, whispers “I love you” against her lips, and makes her finally feel like she’s home.

***

fin


	13. Chapter 13

_Things you said when I was crying [League era, 1.0]  
_

She hadn’t wanted her to find her. The rational part of her brain tells her that if _anyone_ was going to find her, she is lucky it is Nyssa. But she still didn’t want to appear so weak in front of her savior. 

That’s why she’s hiding in the furthest corner of the safe house roof, hoping to get this breakdown out of her system before anyone could notice. Nyssa, however, seems to always know where she is.

“Taer al Asfer,” she says quietly, and the name that still feels so strange when spoken by others sounds like home when coming from her lips. 

Sara wipes the tears from face as quickly as she can, but she knows she’s caught. Legs drawn to her chest, back pressed to the wall, all of Munich spreading out behind her. She had always wanted to see Europe, she thinks to herself sardonically. 

She ventures a look up at Nyssa’s face, but she does not find anger or disappointment. Nyssa’s dark, expressive eyes are gentle, her mouth soft and warm. 

Sara sucks at silence, especially in the presence of the beautiful Heir to the Demon who saved her life and trained her to be something… more. 

“Sorry,” she says quickly.

Nyssa wrinkles her brow and shakes her head. 

“There is no shame in your tears, Taer al Asfer.”

She killed, well, she _assassinated_ her first person today. She’s killed before, in self-defense or indirectly during Ivo’s experiments. But today, she hunted someone down and took his life. And it feels completely different, and the final nail in the coffin of who she used to be, who her father raised her to be. 

But here in the League, assassination is seen as a religious calling. So she really didn’t think Nyssa would take too well to the fact that the killing had torn Sara in two.

“Life is precious, and not to be wasted without cause. The Demon demanded this death to prevent or avenge others, not on a whim. And your first kill is always difficult. You needn’t hide from me.” 

Nyssa extends a hand to Sara, and Sara rubs at her face one more time before accepting it and being pulled to her feet.

“It will get easier,” Nyssa assures her. 

Sara both looks forward to that and fears it. 

Nyssa had stepped in close to pull her up, and now they are toe to toe. Sara feels a familiar thrill, and she knows she shouldn’t be having _these_ feelings for _this_ woman. Nyssa meets her eyes, and Sara feels it under her skin. Nyssa reaches up and puts a hand to her cheek, brushing a lingering tear away. 

Nyssa opens her mouth to say something, but someone is calling for them below. They step apart, minutely, and Sara swears disappointment crosses the Heir’s face. 

“If you need another moment,” Nyssa says, a little distance back in her voice.

“I’m fine,” Sara assures her. It’s kinda true. “Thanks.”

Nyssa’s eyes are soft again, warm, and she nods. 

“You’re very welcome, Taer al Asfer.”

 

***

 

fin


	14. Chapter 14

In “Mine” you mentioned that Nyssa and Sara’s first time together was in a safe-house in Caracas. How did that come about?

SO FUN. Slightly NSFW. Although obviously referencing Mine, this is so early League 1.0 that this is basically just how I imagine their first time.

—-

Sara didn’t expect it to be here. and yet she did. As far as safe houses go, it’s pretty rank. Dirty and tiny, just a place to lay their heads. 

And the seedy underbelly they’ve been slinking through isn’t exactly Caracas’s most romantic section.

But, it’s their first solo mission since the kissing started, a very long month ago. Since then, there’s been a hell of a lot of more and more frustrating (and absolutely blissful) making out, in pantries and hidden nooks and even, a couple times, the Heir’s quarters. Still, they haven’t ventured further than second base yet, and here they are, finally far away from any prying, spying eyes.

Their target eliminated, Nyssa had lead her towards the prettier parts of the city, bought them dinner in a little café off a lovely plaza, and then adorably insisted on guessing her favorite when they grabbed helado next door.

She’d done pretty damn well.

All evening, there’d been a warm feeling in Sara’s belly that said maybe, hopefully, they’d cross that line tonight.

It was obviously a line they crossed a month ago, when they went from teacher and student to stealing kisses when alone on the Heir’s training grounds. No longer savior and saved. Sara had taken a possibly fatal risk when she pressed her lips to Nyssa’s, but man, what a way to go. If just kissing Nyssa is like _this_ , Sara can’t imagine what… everything else is going to feel like.

And by now, Sara is almost sure that’s where they’re (finally) going. After a month (and more, honestly) waking hot and frustrated in the crowded trainees’ dorm, hoping she didn’t just moan out loud the name haunting her dreams.

But they’re kissing now, with no one to interrupt them, and Nyssa tastes like the mango helado she bought them both. It’s sweet, and warm, and Nyssa calls Sara _hers_ , calls her Beloved, and Sara feels it. Beloved. Adored. Safe and maybe even happy, when she makes the Heir to the Demon laugh and pull her close in this dingy little safe house.

That’s how their first time happens on one of the two insanely uncomfortable cots shoved in a corner, _just_ big enough for the two of them to maneuver on. 

It’s equal parts tentative and rushed, because once they realize where they’re headed, they can’t stop touching each other. Nyssa comes first, earlier than she intended, grinding against Sara’s thigh, and Sara follows soon after, against Nyssa’s gentle fingers.

After, wrapped in a scratchy but clean, over-bleached sheet, they trace shapes onto each other’s skin and giggle like they’re young, silly, and in love - because they are.

And just for a handful of hours, in a crappy safe house in the worst part of Caracas, that’s all they are.

***

fin


	15. Chapter 15

Set in a generic Season 4 AU where they like, don’t leave Nyssa completely out of Sara’s post resurrection.

______

“Did you sleep with her?” Sara asks.

Nyssa has trained for the unexpected, but she _really_ isn’t ready for that question. Had she been drinking at the time, she might even have done a humorous “spit-take” a la classic Hollywood comedies.

Sara is ready to climb out of her skin, but Nyssa is still too dumbfounded to reply.

“It’s okay if you did.”

Her face says it _isn’t_ okay, and Nyssa is inclined to agree.

“I mean, you were both hurting, and Laurel and I have a… really fucked up history. So if you did, it’s… fine.”

It is not fine.

“I just want to kn-”

“I did _not_ sleep with your sister,” Nyssa finally manages, forcefully. “I would, _no_. Laurel is lovely, but no.”

Sara visibly relaxes, unfolding from fight or flight mode.

“Oh.” She even blushes a little. “You just seem really… close.”

“Yes. We grew very close after your… death. She was all I had left of you, and I think she felt something similar. She was a friend when I desperately needed one. But just a _friend_.”

“Okay.” Sara blows out a breath. She steps in and wraps her arms around Nyssa’s middle. She lays her head against Nyssa’s chest. “Sorry.”

Nyssa appreciates the apology.

“Were you jealous?”

“…Maybe.”

“Habibti. There is no one else for me. Whether you are alive or not.”

“Well, that makes me sad, too. I want you to be happy.”

“There are other ways to be happy. Even under the circumstances, my _platonic_ relationship with Laurel has made me happy, and I intend to continue it. But my soul will love no other after you.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And certainly not your sister.” Nyssa’s arms are tight across Sara’s warm back. “Who do you take me for? Oliver Queen?”

Sara buries her laugh in Nyssa’s shoulder, and Nyssa feels more in love than ever.

***

fin


	16. Chapter 16

Cuddling! Set, um, honestly whenever.

—

“My arm’s asleep,” Sara complains, half-heartedly, voice muffled, since her face is buried between Nyssa’s shoulder blades.

“Too bad,” Nyssa replies sleepily. “Not moving.”

“Then I’ll move you.”

“Good luck,” Nyssa yawns. Sara’s arm underneath her ribs is not particularly comfortable either, but now it is a matter of pride.

Sara removes her arm from over Nyssa’s waist and gives her hip a few lackluster shoves, offset by the fact she keeps her feet tangled with Nyssa’s and her face nuzzled into her back.

“You’re right. It’s impossible. We’ll just have to be stuck here forever.”

Her free hand slides back around Nyssa’s waist, wandering idly between her breast and her waistband, more intimate and possessive than sensual, though knowing Sara, that could change in an instant. 

“Your arm will fall off eventually,” Nyssa assures her.

“Perfect,” Sara mumbles. “Then I’ll be free.”

Nyssa finds her wandering hand and threads their fingers together.

“Perfect.”

***

fin


	17. Chapter 17

League 1.0

\---

Why the _hell_ did she teach Nyssa al Ghul to have snowball fights? There are far too many opportunities in their globetrotting lives for such fights to emerge, and she is way too freaking good at it.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

Sara ducks but not in time. 

Why does she have to be such a sucker for those pink-tinged cheeks, sparkling eyes, and dark tresses dotted with snowflakes? Well, she basically answered her own question. She shakes the snow out of her scarf and shivers, pointing a mittened finger at her beloved. 

“Okay! That’s enough!”

Another snowball hits her square in the face. 

There is no mercy rule in League of Assassins snowball fights. There are no rules at all.

Sara sputters the ice out of her mouth and glares.

“Nyssa.”

“Habibti.”

She’s armed again, beautiful in the clear moonlit night, dangerous even with snow as her only weapon. She’s created a monster. A monster who owes her a long time in the hot tub tonight.

“Why?”

Nyssa just grins. Sara does manage to duck this one.

The only way to end this is to fight back, she decides. Even if the student has surpassed the teacher. 

It’s a solid fifteen minutes of heated battle before they collapse together on a snowbank. 

“You’re the worst,” Sara complains, her breath coming in puffs of steam.

“The _best_.”

“That, too,” Sara huffs. 

She’d had to tackle Nyssa to get her to stop, and Nyssa had laughed the whole way down. 

Sara loves her.

“Jacuzzi or sauna, habibti?”

See?

\---

fin.


	18. Chapter 18

thoughtsandlife23 asked: Nyssara - Sara to Nyssa “Stay the night. Please.” canonish post s2 maybe how they get back together

***

Nyssa appears in the doorway of Sara’s bunk, beautiful even framed in the boat’s fluorescent light.

Hours ago, Nyssa fulfilled her end of the bargain, and so Sara fulfilled hers: she said goodbye to her family and pledged herself once more to the League.

As for Nyssa and Sara themselves, the people, the individuals, not the Heir and the Canary, they’re on more uncertain footing.

They’d spent the night together (literally and metaphorically) when Sara had first come back, but since then, it was all (mostly…) business. Sara meant to come back to Nyssa, meant it more than she meant to come back to the League. But that had either not been well-communicated or -

Nyssa didn’t want her.

“Hello,” Nyssa says softly.

“Hey you. Come in.”

Nyssa obliges, pulls the heavy door closed behind her.

“How are you doing?”

“I mean, my ribs are still a little sore from-“

“That’s not what I meant.”

Of course it isn’t.

“Nyssa, I did this willingly.”

“That does not mean it was not hard,” Nyssa notes.

It was. So was leaving Nyssa the first time. So was coming back, tail tucked between her legs. It’s all hard - maybe Sara makes it that way, or likes it that way, or whatever. Things are hard, and she always runs headlong into her decisions.

That doesn’t mean she’s making the wrong decision.

The killing had weighed heavily on her, yes, but Oliver’s way of doing things, retaining some kind of alleged moral high ground by not killing, was wishy-washy and indecisive, and it got the people he loves killed. Sometimes, pre-emptive, decisive action is the most merciful course.

The League taught her that. _Nyssa_ taught her that. And they are teachings she is embracing again.

Just like she wants to embrace Nyssa.

“Hard things are still worth doing,” Sara says.

Nyssa nods, still standing so far from her it hurts.

“Thank you,” Sara presses on, getting up and crossing to her.

“A deal was struck.”

“It still means something to me,” Sara insists.

Nyssa is stiff, formal, like she is with everyone else. But that’s not how she’s supposed to be with Sara, and it kills her. She takes her hand, pleasantly surprised that Nyssa allows it.

“You helped me save my city and protect my family. And now I’m here with you, where I _want_ to be.”

“Where you _must_ be.”

“Where. I. Want. To. Be, Nyssa. Dammit. With you.”

“You’d have rather died than return with me, not very long ago, Sara. What changed? And what assurances do I have that you won’t feel the same way again? I cannot-“ Her voice is tight, her eyes wet. She drops Sara’s hand. “Habibti, you know that I am yours, always. But I do not know that your place is truly at my side.”

Sara feels nauseous with guilt (and maybe a little seasick), but also angry. Really, really angry.

“Bullshit,” she says, forcefully. “You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”

“Then why did you leave?” Nyssa whispers in the face of Sara’s anger.

“I was afraid,” Sara says, lowering her voice to match Nyssa’s and lifting a hand to Nyssa’s cheek. “And my fear drowned everything else out. But I came back. _To you._ I coulda figured out another way to take on Slade. I know where to pick up a few mercenaries, and how to find the money to do it. But coming back to the League? I’d never come back if I didn’t mean it, Nyssa. If I didn’t want it. If I had a single doubt. I couldn’t do that to you. Not again. _Never_ again.”

“Sara…”

“Taer al Asfer,” Sara corrects. “Yours. Forever. Even if you don’t want me.”

“I will always want you,” Nyssa swears automatically.

“Then let’s stop this awkward distance. I can’t pretend to be just another subordinate. I can’t pretend we’re not still in love.”

Nyssa pulls her in for a warm kiss. This one is soft and gentle, sweet and slow. Not the need and longing, and yes, anger, that marked their earlier reunion. Sara finally feels like she is home.

“Stay the night,” she says, arms wrapping around Nyssa’s middle. And she means forever. “Please.”

 

***

fin


	19. Chapter 19

“Don’t you say that… not you”

Set in a post-current canon world where Sara stops thinking about going back to her and just flipping does it.

*** 

“Don’t you say that… not you,” Sara says sharply. 

“Sara…”

“You are not a monster. A monster would not have saved me. A monster would not have loved me. You are an assassin, yes. You kill bad people who do bad things, and you do it really fucking well. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you _you_.”

“But I-”

“Who told you that? Was it Ollie? I’ll kill him.”

Sara is pacing now, and Nyssa sighs, intervening with hands on Sara’s shoulders, physically blocking her path. 

“There are social norms, Sara. By most estimations I am in fact-”

“Those are for other people,” Sara dismisses. “People who don’t understand.”

“You are the one whose very soul was torn apart by killing, Sara. It was the killing that drove you from my side the first time, the killing I sought to avoid by sending you away the second,” Nyssa counters. 

Sara’s brow furrows. “Okay, but… That doesn’t make you a _monster.”  
_

“I am comfortable with who I am, habibti. But I will stop using that word, given that it upsets you so _.”_ Nyssa rubs her shoulders, soothing her. 

“Okay. I don’t like the idea of someone calling you that,” Sara says. “Especially yourself.”

Nyssa kisses the forehead of her hotheaded beloved. 

“Thank you.”

***

fin


	20. Chapter 20

23\. “Love is stupid”

LOT canon, pre-latest crossover

***

“Love is stupid,” Sara says, punctuating her sentiment with a throwing knife to the wall.

“Hey hey,” Jax intervenes, swiping the bottle of scotch from her hand. “You can have the booze or the knives, not both.”

He is of course not going to try to take the knives from her. He’s not dumb. Sara lets him take the alcohol: she’s already had quite a bit. She throws another knife into the Waverider’s kitchen wall.

“Rory told me you were in here, drinking all the good stuff and whining about love. You wanna talk about it?”

“No. I wanna throw things.”

A solid thunk finishes her sentence.

“Okay, well, we’ll talk about you messin’ up my ship later,” Jax dismisses.

“ _Whose_ ship?” Sara asks, incredulous.

“Mine. So what’s her name?”

“I’m _bi_ , you know,” Sara says petulantly.

“Oh, I know, but you only get torn up over the girls.”

“I don’t get _torn up_ over anyone,” Sara pouts.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jax dismisses her.

Sara points a knife at him.

“Knock that off,” he brushes her away. “Why is love stupid, Sara?”

“Because it is.”

“Just in general.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh.” Jax purses his lips and asks again. “What’s her name, Sara?”

Sara wants to say it, thinking maybe saying it aloud will take away its power. But it gets caught on all the emotion currently crowding her throat. It was just a bow, carrying it around, fighting with it to fit into the time period. It never takes much, though, to bring her back to Sara’s mind.

She coughs a little, trying to clear her throat of all of it, and she feels tears in her eyes as she finally admits:

“Her name is Nyssa.”

Jax pauses, then claps a hand on her shoulder. It’s warm. No one else touches her here, and Jax rarely so. For a moment she just relishes the companionship. After Laurel, and then the League, and then Sin, and then the League again, Sara never felt lonely. But here on the Waverider?

“Tell me all about her.”

Sara blows out a breath, slow and steady.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

***

fin

 


	21. Chapter 21

21\. “You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?”

Post-LOT

“You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?”

Nyssa’s voice is raw from sleep, looking all adorable in her soft pajamas, leaning against the apartment door. Her left hand is out of view, probably holding a knife. Like Sara said: adorable. 

Sara tries to be equally cute when she shoves her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and says:

“Well, yeah?”

“Sara. I haven’t seen or heard from you in four years.”

Sara flinches at Nyssa’s use of her first name. She wants to hear that one endearment again, to know that she is still Nyssa’s beloved, after all this time. If she is not Nyssa’s _habibti_ , she does not know who she is. 

Of course it has been more than four years for Sara, and she knows this is a risk. A possibly earth shattering risk. 

“I know.”

There is no explanation that does not sound idiotic in her head, so she sure as hell isn’t going to say them out loud.

“And yet here you are. Wanting to _cuddle_.”

“But like, forever. I want to cuddle forever, Nyssa.”

Okay, that definitely sounded dumb, but Nyssa pulls the door open more, dropping the knife onto the table by the door.

“Come out of the hall. It’s late,” Nyssa says, gesturing for her to come in.

Sara counts this as a victory.

She had meant to show up, well, during the day time, but the calculations had been a bit off, and she couldn’t wait any longer. 

She had also meant to be dashing, to sweep Nyssa off her feet. But Nyssa always steals the swagger right out of her mouth, turns her into a blushing, awkward twenty-something all over again. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Nyssa asks politely. 

Sara declines with the shake of her head. 

Nyssa’s apartment is simple but elegant: an open concept living space, what appears to be a recently occupied bedroom off to the right. Nyssa busies herself with the kettle on the stove. It’s very normal and domestic and everything Sara has ever dreamed of in the last far too many years. Sara stands awkwardly in the middle of the apartment, where the kitchen bleeds into a cozy living room, feeling very distant from all this warmth.

“What did you hope to accomplish by coming here?” Nyssa asks, keeping her back to Sara. 

There is tension in her spine: Sara can see it from here. She aches to go to her, to knead it out of her, but she can sense such a gesture would be unwelcome right now. 

She opens her mouth to respond, but Nyssa, still not looking at her, interjects:

“And do not say cuddling again.”

Sara’s mouth snaps shut. She wasn’t going to say that, but the reminder of the stupidity of her opening line stills her tongue. She regroups. She owes Nyssa an explanation.

“I have spent too much time, fighting too much darkness. Darkness I cannot even begin to explain. And Damian Darhk, more times than anyone should ever have to fight that guy. It is time for me to find peace. And whenever I think of peace, all I can ever think about is you.”

Nyssa whirls around to face her then, eyes flashing.

“How on _earth_ can that be true? I have brought you nothing but blood and pain and-”

“Light, and life. You nursed me back to life. You created a haven, a place of peace that was only ours, even in the midst of the League. Through it all, all the good and the bad of the League, there was always you. My safe harbor. So I am done adventuring, and I want to come home.”

There, that’s more like Captain Lance, dashing time captain. 

Nyssa spreads her hands out before her in surrender. She is so beautiful, eyes wide and wet, the soft light of a lamp in the corner illuminating her like a freaking angel.

“Sara, I have loved you what feels like a lifetime. I will always love you. You must know that: why else would you come knocking on my door? But half the time I have loved you, you have been far from me, in both time and space and life. Perhaps we just missed our opportunity.”

“No,” Sara says forcefully. She crosses to Nyssa, unable to stomach the distance between them any longer. She threads her fingers in each of Nyssa’s widespread hands, brings their hands close together, nestled between them. “No. We didn’t miss it. Merlyn _stole_ it, and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of that victory.”

Nyssa meets her eyes, jaw setting

“This does not end well, habibti. It never ends well.” 

Sara thrills. With that endearment, all is finally well. They can face the rest together, no matter what.

“Then we won’t let it end. Don’t just love me forever, Nyssa. _Let me stay forever_.”

“And when the wanderlust takes you again, habibti? What then? You have never sat still well.”

Nyssa is right enough about that, but with the ache of the last too many years behind her, Sara feels, for the first time ever, an overwhelming need to stop moving. To stay rooted.

“ _If_ I ever need to wander again, I’ll take you with me. I promise.”

“A promise?” Nyssa asks, surprised. She pulls one of her hands free and ventures to place it against Sara’s cheek. “It has been a very long time since you have been the one making promises.”

“Then I’m making one now. I vow to never leave your side, as long as you’ll have me.”

“You know I’ll always have you,” Nyssa says quickly, almost instinctively, and Sara smiles, victorious.

“Then it’s settled. I’m staying forever. Cuddles better be included.”

Nyssa rolls her eyes, and it is _perfection_. She loves annoying her Nyssa. She opens her mouth to continue, but Nyssa cuts her off with a kiss.

After all her years of wandering, the weary adventurer is finally home.

***

fin


	22. Chapter 22

[@caracersei](https://tmblr.co/maO020DZNw397BnRNT5cP5w) asked:

50\. “Please… I need you”

League!Nyssara, pre-canon (So, League 1.0)

***

The blood is already seeping through Sara’s fingers. Nyssa’s heart is strong, and in this moment that is a curse, for it sends the blood rocketing out of the entry wound in her abdomen to coat Sara’s hands.

Sara feels ill, and not from the blood. She feels adrenaline the type of which she has only ever felt for herself. Nyssa’s life is spilling out over her hands, onto the concrete floor, and Sara doesn’t know what to do. 

She just keeps applying pressure. Applying pressure and praying to any god she has even heard of.

Nyssa’s hand finds Sara’s wrist and squeezes, far too weakly. Sara fails to stifle a sob. 

“Stay with me,” Sara pleads. “I set off the beacon. A medic will be here soon. I-” She chokes again. “I should have seen him. I should have…”

“Habibti,” Nyssa sighs, and Sara thrills at this new endearment that has begun to pass between them in just the last few months. “Don’t-”

“Shh,” Sara cuts her off. “Shh, save your strength.”

Nyssa’s grip on her wrist weakens and then slips away. Sara looks up sharply, relieved when she sees that Nyssa’s chest is still rising and falling. She looks so small. Sara can barely believe her eyes, her great savior laid out, slipping away. 

Sara has lost so much. She was stripped to nothing, and yet Nyssa found her and rebuilt her anew. Gave her a place, in the League and, more importantly, at Nyssa’s side. And as their relationship has evolved past savior and saved, teacher and taught, and into something unlike Sara had ever felt before, Sara finds herself unable to even think of life without Nyssa, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, Heir to the Demon.

And here she is, dying before her eyes, because of Sara’s dumb mistake.

“I just need you to hold on, Nyssa.” The lump in her throat is almost insurmountable. “You’re all I have. You’re all I _want._ Please stay with me. _Please_ … I need you.”

Sara continues to press her hands into Nyssa’s wound, maybe too hard, but it’s all she can do. Keep her sticky hands pressed to Nyssa’s abdomen and plead and pray. 

Hope Nyssa’s heart doesn’t stop and take hers with it.

***

fin


	23. Chapter 23

“Because I love you god damn it!” 

An alternate ending, for Nyssa and Sara in that dungeon. 

***

Sara makes it two steps towards the cell door before she turns around, disgusted at herself. 

“Yeah, no. We’re not playing it that way,” she says, hands on her hips.

“Habibti, what are you?” 

“I’m calling bullshit,” Sara says. “I am _not_ leaving you here.”

“But if you have ever loved me, beloved,” Nyssa repeats, “You will-”

“No! I am breaking you out of here, _because_ I love you, god damn it! Present tense. Right now. And I will not leave you at Malcolm Merlyn’s mercy.”

“Sara, you deserve-”

“Hush,” Sara dismisses, taking Nyssa’s hands back in her own. “ _We_ deserve.”

“If you free me from this dungeon, Sara, you court war with Merlyn.”

“Bring it.” Sara’s mind is working over time. “Alright, Merlyn let me walk in here, so he’s either going to kill us both any minute now, or he’s stupid enough to think I’m just here to visit.”

“Sara…”

“There have to be people still loyal to you.”

“He wields the ring.”

“Nyssa, c’mon. There has to be at least _someone_.”

“Talibah,” Nyssa says without further hesitation. 

A slow smile spreads across Sara’s face. She always did like that kid.

“Perfect. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Sara, he will be watching you.”

“Hey, I’m smarter than Malcolm Merlyn. And believe me - I owe him a good arrow to the chest.”

Nyssa shudders, and Sara regrets the casual way she said that. She raises a hand to Nyssa’s cheek, making her meet her eyes.

“Nyssa, I love you. I will not leave you here, under any circumstances. And once we get you out of here, we’ll figure out the rest of our life.”

“Our life?” Nyssa asks, so small in that moment. Sara pushes up to kiss her, soundly.

“Our life.”

***

fin


	24. Chapter 24

19\. I’m scared. Pre-canon (League Nyssara 1.0)

—–

“Why are you being such a-”

“I’m scared.”

Sara freezes mid-rant.

“What?”

Nyssa’s eyes flash in annoyance. That was hard enough to say once, her glare says.

“Why?” Sara asks.

“Taer al Asfer, you are  _reckless_. As if you care not what happens with your life. As if your life does not matter.”

“Does it?” Sara asks automatically, but the pain that crosses Nyssa’s face gut-punches her.

“ _Of course_ , it matters,” Nyssa grits out, steel in her voice. “It matters very much to me.”

Sara knows she means it. Deep down, she’s always known that this was more than fun, more than lust. It had to be, with the risks they were taking. But it’s hard to shake the mentality that’s chased her even before the  _Gambit_ : nothing matters, not even, or perhaps especially not, her life.

“I’m sorry,” Sara manages, cheeks flushing.

“Do not be sorry. Be careful. I have taught you to be better than this. So that you can survive. If not for yourself, then for me. Please.”

Nyssa is damn close to begging. Sara crosses to her, a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s just a couple bruises.”

“It could have been worse.  _Much_ worse. I need you to care if you live, habibti,” Nyssa says softly.

“And do you?” Sara whispers. “Care if you live, I mean.”

Nyssa meets her gaze with fire. “I do now.”

Something melts inside Sara.

“Alright,” Sara promises. “I’ll care. I’ll be  _care_ ful.”

Nyssa rolls her eyes and tugs her closer. Sara pushes up to kiss her.

“Keep coming back, Taer al Asfer. You have someone waiting for you.”

“Always,” Sara swears.

***

fin


	25. Chapter 25

Nyssara + Sara to Nyssa “I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed!” maybe sometime during or after s2 

Late Season 2 (League Nyssara 2.0)

\----

“I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed!” Sara objects, arms crossed over her chest.

The roar of the cargo plane’s engines keeps their conversation private, even though they are practically shouting.

“I can do as I please,” Nyssa counters. “And I am very difficult to kill.” Nyssa narrows her eyes. “You asked for my help, Sara.”

Sara’s given name, her former and now current name, had once passed between them like a secret endearment. It was all but banned, and Nyssa’s use of it had been in equal parts a quiet rebellion and a loud declaration of how much of her Nyssa saw. Now, though, Sara longs for  _habibti_ , for Taer al Asfer for familiarity and home. Now, Nyssa’s “Sara” is a mark of all that stands between them.

“I asked for the  _League’s_  help.”

“I am the League,” Nyssa says imperiously and that age-old feeling of wanting to both punch and kiss her wells up in Sara.

She rolls her eyes. 

“I asked for your father’s help,” Sara clarifies. “I bent the knee to Ra’s al Ghul.”

“I am my father’s will. I go wherever Ra’s al Ghul sends me.”

Sara groans. Nyssa’s so damn stubborn.

“If the thought of having me here is so offensive,  _Sara,_ you are welcome to ride at the other end of the plane.”

Sara groans again, louder. 

“Goddammit, Nyssa. This stuff is dangerous. Mirakuru creates  _monsters_ , not men.”

“I handle monsters as easily as I handle men,” Nyssa says. “This Slade has you deeply shaken.”

Nyssa sees to the core of her. She always has.

“I can’t watch you die, Nyssa,” Sara says. Being honest is the only choice she has in front of Nyssa’s insight.

Nyssa’s dark eyes widen, perhaps with the suggestion of tears. She goes somewhere else, or probably some _when_  else, if only for a moment.

“I understand the sentiment,” Nyssa says, accent more clipped than ever. 

Sara is speechless in front of that. She knows that, has always known it. Perhaps she knew it most of all when she downed that viper venom to stop Nyssa and Ollie from killing each other.

“Nyssa, I-”

She is back in the League, back home, and yet until she and Nyssa can figure themselves out again, it won’t feel right.

The plane shakes from turbulence. Nyssa turns as if to leave, but Sara grabs her arm. 

“Slade is dangerous. And I don’t want you dying for me.”

Nyssa meets her eyes, open and honest herself, and says, just audibly over the engines:

“But you know that is the only way I would, habibti.”

***

fin


	26. Chapter 26

Post-LOT Season 3 sadness

—–

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nyssa asks, quirking her eyebrow adorably.

“I just- wow. It suits you,” Sara blinks, taking in the new style. “I’ve never seen it so short.”

“Oh.” Nyssa might even blush a little. “I simply needed a change. It is still long enough to keep out of the way.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Nyssa never change her hair, not  _once_ , in the  _years_  they were together. Sara hasn’t seen her in years, either, but she figured that everything about Nyssa was one of those immutable facts of life, solid and unchanging. That’s not exactly fair to Nyssa the person, of course, but she’s always been larger than life for Sara.

What else has changed about her?

Sara doesn’t even have the right to ask.

But god Nyssa’s  _beautiful._  The little change, the distance between them, it reopens Sara’s eyes. She’s twenty-one again, utterly smitten with the Heir to the Demon, her gentle savior in private, badass warrior and commander in public. It’s a heady feeling.

But she isn’t twenty-one anymore. She’s actually lost count of her age. 

Nyssa set her free, however many years ago, and Sara took her up on it. Her stomach turns with bilious regret, and she can’t even linger on that, indulge in it, because Sara has a life now, a life without Nyssa, by Sara’s own choice. Sara has commitments, romantic and otherwise, that preclude falling back (in time) into Nyssa’s arms, even if she wants to. Even though she wants to.

“Are you alright, habibti?”

Throat constricting, Sara manages, “Still?”

“You will always be my beloved, Sara. That bond cannot be broken.” Nyssa pauses. “That does not mean I seek anything from you. You are simply an irrevocable piece of me.”

“Me, too,” Sara says, though it sounds so weak. “But-”

“But our lives are no longer intertwined. I understand. As I said, I seek nothing from you. It is you, however, who have come seeking something. For your mission.”

Sara shakes away the ache for yesterday and tries to focus in the mission at hand

“Right.” She clears her throat. “Information.”

“If I have it,” Nyssa says with that gentle smile she saves for Sara. “You know it is yours.”

***

fin


End file.
